


Things Matt Murdoch Doesn't Strictly Need To Know

by technically_direct



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Foggy Nelson & Karen Page Friendship, Foggy Nelson Is a Good Bro, Gen, Legal Drama, Not Season/Series 02 Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-17 02:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12355608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technically_direct/pseuds/technically_direct
Summary: It's not that Foggy's hiding things, he may have just neglected to mention a few. Like how he's kept in contact with everyone from the old neighborhood, regardless of whether or not they're strictly on the right side of the law. And he wasn't exactly going to turn down an old friend if they needed legal advice, was he?After all, what Matt didn't know couldn't hurt him that much.





	Things Matt Murdoch Doesn't Strictly Need To Know

It’s not like Foggy Nelson was part of _every_ criminal syndicate in Hell's Kitchen. _Technically_ , he wasn’t in the mob- he hadn’t gone through the whole initiation thing, mostly because he hated lying to Matt (and yeah, it was a technicality, but still), and he was a lawyer and didn’t want to get himself _disbarred_ if someone happened to talk. So what if he was around certain restaurants a lot? _Clearly_ , he was just fulfilling his duties as a _legal representative_. He still didn’t have an excuse for the weddings, the babysitting, or the tattoo, but it was a work in progress.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

-

Ok, so it’s not like Foggy Nelson is exactly a _stranger_ to organized crime. He grew up in Hell’s Kitchen in the 1980s and early 90s- sure, the Kitchen might be _nice_ now, but back then you couldn’t swing a cat without hitting at least five associates of the Irish and a few Sicilians. He heard enough gunshots as a kid that he barely registers them now; for the longest time when he was at Columbia with Matt, he couldn’t sleep because of the quiet. Back when his mom managed the bodega a few blocks away, half the guys who came in to buy smokes were enforcers. Hell, he even took charge of paying protection money for the law firm- and in this respect, what Matt didn’t know didn’t hurt him.

And that’s not even mentioning the Dogs of Hell. Thank God Matt didn’t know how many of them were in Josie’s at any given time. And while Foggy was never in the club itself- driving a motorcycle is _hard_ , ok, - he always ran with people who were. When he was 15, his buddies were always able to easily get beer; one of his cousins gave him a switchblade when he went off to college “for emergencies”- it had the little crest etched on the blade.

And then there was the time he was hanging out at cousin Vinny’s on spring break from Columbia and he ended up learning how to stitch up a stab wound with dental floss. Personally, he thought he did a terrible job, but according to Vinny’s buddy it never turned a weird color or started leaking, so he figured it wasn’t all bad.

But that was all old news. And if some of their cases got kicked their way because Foggy just happened to know a guy in every gang in the kitchen from back when they were kids, then Matt didn’t need to know that, the same way he didn’t need to know about that time he’d gotten a brick through window because of a case or that because of Hottie McBurner— _Claire_ , he now had a pretty good idea of who the other street level vigilantes were. And the less Matt knew about what Foggy’s relations to the less-than-legal side of things, the better. Plausible deniability, and all that. Sure.

Well, plausible deniability and Matt’s black and white attitude towards everything. Maybe it was a Catholic thing.

-

When Foggy was a kid, his Momma always told him, “Chickens come home to roost, hon; sooner or later, everything will come back and bite you on the ass.” Now, Carol Nelson had never owned a chicken in her life—her and his dad were city folk, always had been. When Vinny’s buddy stumbled into the office one morning, Foggy felt his blood run cold.

Thankfully, Matt wasn’t in. Apparently, Daredevilling hadn’t gone super well last night, or maybe an ex was in town; either way, he’d called in saying he’d try to swing by in the afternoon. At any rate, Matty was thankfully absent. Karen, however, was not.

Vinny’s buddy walked in as he and Karen were enjoying their morning coffee.

“Foggy, baby!” He boomed, voice deep and resonant. He was wearing a white undershirt and a pair of dark cargo pants. A cheap gold chain hung around his neck, and he smiled gamely around a cigarette. “I hear tell you’ve moved up in the world!”

Foggy accepted the offered hug, clapping him on the back. “Mickey, right? It’s been ages! You still seeing Lila?”

Mickey pulled out his phone and started looking through his pictures. “Yeah, man, we’ve got a daughter now, Nomi? She’s just the cutest fuckin thing, Fogs. “ He pulled up a picture and showed it to him. “She just turned two, and damn if she doesn’t have her Mama’s eyes.”

Foggy cooed appreciatively. “She’s really cute, oh my god. “ Foggy took a breath. “You still running in the same circles?”

Mickey looked at Karen, then back at Foggy. “You sure you want to talk about this in front of her?”

“She’s good people. Also, I love you buddy, but if you just wanted to shoot the shit, you still have my number, right? So I’m guessing you must need me in a legal way.” Mickey nodded. “Right. Well, Karen gives good insight and always finds everything out, anyway.”

Mickey pulled up a chair and took a seat at their table, picking a muffin up from the box in the middle of the table. “So yeah, I am still hanging around with Vinny, and I’m still in the same line of work, you know, _sales_.” He looked over at Karen. “You aren’t from the neighborhood, sorry. I’m a fence? That kind of sales.”

Karen cut Foggy a look, but nodded. “Yeah, I--- Yeah, sorry, I’m just not used to clients being so up front?”

Mickey shook his head and laughed a little. “Well, you work with Murdoch, and he’s a self-righteous motherfucker if there ever was one. Really into that innocence shit, what a guy. Too fuckin’ honest, I’ll tell you that for free.”

“Still getting stabbed, Mick?” Foggy asked lightly.

“You motherfucker, you just can’t let that shit go, can you.” Mickey grinned, turning to Karen. “You get stabbed and make someone sew you up with dental floss one time and he never lets you forget it.” He took a bite out of his pumpkin muffin. “For the record, no, injury fuckin’ free. You’d be surprised, but gettin’ stabbed really makes you rethink your business practices.”

Karen cut him another look. “Alright, good to know?”

“So,” Foggy began, “What brings you by today?” “Right, so my landlord is a tin-plated dickhead, right? He’s one of those bastards who bought up a bunch of property super cheap after that thing with the thing with the aliens a few years back? And apparently, he’s trying to singlehandedly gentrify the neighborhood. Like that pharmacy and bodega down near where cousin Luther used to live? Fuckin’ thing is an organic grilled cheese bar, now. What are we, Brooklyn?” He took another bite out of his muffin, before taking another cigarette out of the pack folded into his shirtsleeve and lighting up.

“Yeah, that blows,” Foggy started. “But it’s not exactly illegal.”

“Nah, man, I know. I’m still setting the fucking stage, man. Anyway, he’s doing that with every piece of commercial property he’s got, right? There are more fuckin luxury vape shops in the kitchen then there are bodegas. Plus, he’s hiking up the rent. Alot. Like I get the kitchen isn’t the shithole it was when we were kids, but Christ, this isn’t fucking _midtown_ , either? He’s pricing out all of his fucking residents because he’s a greedy bastard.” Mickey caught Foggy’s eye before he said anything, “ I know, still legal for some fucking reason, probably because politicians are rich fucks who want to be even richer fucks.”

Karen looked up from where she was taking notes. “This is really, shady, though. Why hasn’t anyone complained?”

“That’s the thing! One of Vinny’s guys spoke up, but the pigs ended up finding an unregistered gun in his apartment? Which, ok, reasonable, he wasn’t the brightest. But then it happened again, to one of Lila’s buddies, except then it was cocaine. And apparently one of Mama’s bridge group was trafficking fucking angel dust? So, uh, I think he might be up to something, or at least is setting some folks up.”

“Right. I’ll look into it, alright? I’m not promising anything, but I’ll see what I can do.” Foggy paused. “By the way, who’s your landlord?”

“Miller Campbell. He’s got an office in midtown. Motherfucker has properties all over the city. .”

“Awesome. For real, you have my number. If anything comes up, let me know, alright?”

“For sure.” Mickey stood up, and hugged Foggy a second time. “That’s two I owe you, man. “

“Tell Lila and Nomi I say hi, alright?”

“Definitely.” Mickey walked out.

The second they stopped hearing his steps in the hallway, Karen wheeled around to look at him. “Foggy, sincerely, _what the ever-living fuck.”_

Foggy scratched the back of his neck. “So you know how we have that list of ‘things Matt doesn’t need to know about’? This is one of those things. Like. Just so you know. This really needs to not get back to Matt.”

Karen nodded.

“When I was a kid, right, Hell’s Kitchen was a very different place. No money. Lots of crime. And it’s always been a fairly tight neighborhood. So, like, half the people you knew were connected to it in some way; one of my uncles was in with the Italians, cousin Vinny was tight with the Dogs of Hell, Mickey’s a freelancing fence-- it was just normal back then."

Karen cut him a look. “Okay, so you knew a lot of criminals back in the day. So what?”

“What I’m saying, Karen, is that I might sorta accidentally have _a lot_ of gang connections. And, like, it’s not a super big deal, everyone who was in the kitchen back then has them, but I haven’t exactly cut my friends loose because I disagree with their choice of business, so mine might be a little closer than others?”

“… Okay, noted.” She blinked. “How do you happen to know Mickey?”

Foggy rolled his eyes. “So I was on Spring break from Columbia, right? I was in my second year, I think. I’m hanging out at my cousin Vinny’s, and it’s like one in the morning. We’re shooting the shit, and then suddenly the doorbell rings, and Mickey’s got blood all down the side of his shirt and is just kinda leaning on the wall. So we bring him in, right, and it turns out he’s been stabbed? A little bit, in the shoulder area. So we pour some of the tequila we’ve been drinking onto it to sterilize it or whatever, and use some of Vinny’s floss and a needle he had in the back of his junk drawer, and just sew him up."

Karen looked a little appalled. She took a sip of her now lukewarm coffee. “Yikes.”

“Pretty much. And then, after he’d slept it off, we traded phone numbers, and that’s how we met.” Foggy sipped his coffee.

“And you’ve just _never_ mentioned this? I’ve known you for over a year, and this is kinda a Big Thing!” Foggy could hear the capital letters in her voice. “Oh my god. Are you in the mob?”

“No, Karen, I’m not in the _mob_ , holy shit. And anyway, Matt’s fuckin Daredevil, and that’s got to be up there with Big Things he’s withheld.”

“ _What the fuck, Foggy_.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Is this just ‘tell Karen things that are super obvious in retrospect’ day?”

“Wow, okay I was—I was totally prepared to have to do some convincing on that one, but you jumped on that train _real_ fucking quick, didn’t you. I should introduce you to Claire, you two would get on like a house on fire. She’s Matt’s nurse friend, apparently he nearly bled to death in her dumpster."

“Stop trying to distract me from this ‘oh, by the way, all my friends but Matt are criminals’ shit with some choice Daredevil info—which we will for sure be talking about later, just so you know. “ She paused, taking a moment to pick apart her muffin some more. Pretty much all that remained was the wrapper, some largeish crumbs, and a few blueberries that looked like they had seen better days. “Any other big truth bombs to drop on me, or is this it?”

“Well,” Foggy began, “There is that whole thing with—“ his phone chirped. Matt. Apparently he was headed into the office after all.

Goody.

“Hey, so Matt is actually showing up soon.” He said. “Maybe don’t let him know you know about the Daredevil thing. Also like he can totally hear your heartbeat and echolocate shit, so maybe if you want to talk covert secret gang stuff, drop me an email?”

“Foggy, sincerely, _what the fuck_.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr @technicallydirect, and if you wouldn't mind dropping a comment about what you've thought of the fic so far, that would be great :)


End file.
